At The Park
by HalfASlug
Summary: Sometimes history is made in the simplest of places on the most average days.


_A/N: I originally wrote this a couple of months ago but didn't really like it. However, I'm currently at 39 stories and I don't like the number 39 for some reason so it got a rework and is now here so I don't have to see the number 39. But yeah, this concept has been done to death and back but I wrote it anyway and promise to do better next time._

_Disclaimer: JK Rowling didn't write this and you can tell because her pseudonym is sensible and has nothing to do with molluscs.  
_

* * *

The sand slipped through the boy's fingers as the time passed him by at its usual glacial pace. Looking out at the playground he could see his cousin hogging the tire swing, not really able to do anything on it because his bulk. Thankfully his father was on hand to assist him. The two boys caught each other's eyes and the older one smirked. With a heavy sigh, the younger one went back to the piles of sand he was too scared to make anything better out of because his cousin would surely kick them in his face.

Around them the other children laughed and shrieked but the boy felt separated and their voices sounded as though they were fighting through a thick glass barrier to reach him. He sighed heavier than a child his age ever should, misery that grown men didn't know filling him as the sleeve of his baggy shirt fell down, covering his hand. Dragging it back into place with the other, he softly pressed the sole of his old trainer against the pile of sand, leaving an imprint.

He smiled sadly at it. While grand structures would always be brought to the ground before him, he prided himself on being able make the little he had more bearable.

* * *

Being outside meant there could be spiders, but his daddy has promised him that he wouldn't let them near him. It was only after this promise that he had agreed to go to the park after their little walk around the big city because he daddy was strong and could stop anything from hurting him.

Still wary of the spiders finding him, he looked over his shoulder, a move made difficult while holding his daddy's hand. Straining slightly he could still make out the tall buildings that touched the clouds. He was sure a dragon lived at the top but when he had asked his daddy he had told him they weren't real while glancing around them. His brother had told them they did and he had seen the pictures.

He tripped over his feet and would have fallen if his daddy hadn't caught him. For the rest of the walk to the park his daddy carried him and he felt safe. His brothers had lied to him about dragons and made him cry and turned his teddy into a spider, but his daddy would never lie or hurt or scare him. Never.

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"She's interested. It's healthy for her development."

"No. They're disgusting."

"Would you rather her not have interests?"

"I'd rather she be interested in something I wouldn't mind being in the house."

"Darling, do you still want to look at the pond?"

"Yes, Daddy!"

The woman pursed her lips at her daughter's enthusiasm and did her best not to look at her husband's smug grin.

"Fine. Go on, sweetheart. But don't go picking up anything! Leave the animals be!"

"Of course, Mummy! Thank you!"

Her daughter's excitement got the best of her and she ran over to the pond, stopping a more than safe distance from the edge, she began eagerly searching the shallow water with her eyes. As she dragged her husband to the bench closest to the bank, she hoped their daughter's next favourite subject was something at least a little bit prettier.

* * *

His daddy had asked if he wanted a push on the swing but he shook his head and bounded over to the seesaw. There was another boy on the swings who looked mean and was wearing new looking clothes. He looked down at the jeans that he thought belonged to one of his brother's because that's where he got all of his clothes from. The bottom bits of his trainers were coming off as well. He tried to not pick at them because it only made them worse but he couldn't help it. His mummy always told him off when she saw him do it.

It took him a moment to notice that he had been suspended in the air for a long time and looked at his daddy. He nodded over to the sandpit and a sad looking boy and suggested he should ask to play with him. Wrinkling his nose, he studied the boy and saw how his jeans had a hole in the knee and his shirt was too big for him. Did he have to wear his brothers' clothes as well?

He bit his lip and nodded so his daddy let him down. As soon as the wooden seat hit to ground, he scrambled off it and started running towards the sandpit, his daddy calling after him to be careful.

* * *

The sound of quick footsteps grew louder and the boy threw his hands up to guard his face on instinct. When no blow came, he looked up and saw it wasn't his cousin, but another boy, scuffing his shoes into the grass.

"What you doing?" he asked. His voice sounded funny. No one the boy had met had ever had a voice like that.

"I was making sand castles."

The other boy frowned at the pile of sand. "It don't look like a castle." Rather than taunting and sneering like the children at nursery always were, this boy sounded curious yet uncertain. "There's a castle in chess and it don't look like that."

"Oh," the boy replied blankly, wondering what chess was, but he was scared to ask. "I-I've never made one before."

"I have," the boy perked up. "My brothers always knock them down though. One time I threwed a stone at them and it hitted one of them on the bum."

The boy laughed at the memory as he sat down in the sand next to him and he found he was smiling along. Without asking permission, the boy whose jeans were too short began pushing large piles of sand in between them, his tongue between his teeth. The boy hesitated for a moment before copying him, hoping they could finish the castle before his uncle saw him talking to strangers.

* * *

She had checked everywhere and there was nothing to be found. Sitting cross-legged on the bank, she opened her book again to see if it said anything that could help, but it still had the same words she could recite in her sleep. Undeterred she looked around the park and saw lots of children her age. Maybe they could help her?

"Daddy, can I go and ask the other children if they have seen any?"

"Is there none in there, sweetie?"

"Good," his wife muttered and he nudged her with his elbow.

"Shh, you."

The girl shook her head, wondering what her mummy was whispering about.

"So can I? Please? I won't take any sweeties from strangers and I'll stay where you can see me and I'll run straight back here if-"

"We'll keep an eye on you. Just stay in this bit here where we can see you. Be good!"

Grinning, she headed towards the playground, shutting the metal gate carefully behind her before searching for some people to help her.

* * *

Talking and making sand castles with the other boy was really fun, even if he was a bit slow. They had worked out that he was the oldest so he got to be in charge and the other boy was doing what he was being told to. As he patted down the top of a pile of sand to make the roof, he thought how nice it was to be the oldest and wished his stupid little sister would play with him properly.

As soon as he had thought of his sister he regretted it as he saw a girl heading their way and he wanted to throw sand in her face. This was _his_ friend, not hers. She would have to find her own.

"Excuse me," she said in a posh sort of voice, "I was looking for a toad. Have you seen one?"

He and his friend blinked up at her in shock. Girls didn't like toads.

"No, sorry," his friend answered.

The girl's face fell. "Oh. Thank you for your help." With a sad smile she turned away and walked towards the slide.

"Why have you got a book?" he called after her.

She stopped and scowled. "It's a book about toads and frogs. I was using it to help me tell the difference." She held the book up and he saw it had a cartoon frog on it. Or maybe it was a toad? He didn't know.

"But you're at a playground."

"Yes," the girl said slowly.

"So why have you got a book? Books aren't fun." He looked at his friend but he was lazily tracing a circle in the sand, avoiding the look of disbelief he was trying to give him.

"Books _are _fun!" she shouted at him, stamping her foot. "You like books, don't you?" she rounded on his friend.

Blinking, the boy shook his head. "I-I haven't got any."

* * *

"Dawn! Dawn, boys!"

"Leave her be. That one on the right looks as though he could snap in half in a mild gust."

"I don't like the look of the other one. He's pretty tall."

"You're right. For a five year old he is positively gigantic. Must be at least three and half feet."

"You're not taking this seriously."

"This is our daughter's safety! Oh why did we send her out there without at least some pepper spray?"

"You can stop now."

"Would a mace have been too much?"

The tell-tale smile creeping onto her face was cut short as he pressed his lips to hers. All the worry and stress of the world melted away because that was what she did. She made his existence shine in ways he couldn't have imagined and he wondered how he ever coped in the bleakness without her.

* * *

When he had spoken the boy hadn't realised the effect his words would have on the other two. Both of them were gawping at him.

"Don't your parents read you any?" the girl asked, looking as though she might cry.

The boy looked from one stunned face to the other and decided he didn't want to tell them the truth. When he had told the other children at nursery they had bombarded him with questions and only stopped when the fire alarm had gone off and they had all had to line up outside. Later the teacher had told them not to ask him questions about his parents and they took that mean not to talk to him at all.

"No. Not really. They're too busy. They go to work a lot."

The boy shrugged and the girl pursed her lips but neither of them said anything else. The lie tasted terrible on the boy's tongue but the conversation was dropped and the other two weren't walking away so he guessed he could live with it.

* * *

"Castles have moats, by the way."

"Boats?"

"_Moats. _It's like a big pond around the outside so no one can get in."

"I knew that!"

The girls glared at the rude boy because he was clearly lying and lying was wrong.

"We could have moat. How would we make a moat?"

Grateful that the other boy understood that she could help them, she picked a stick up from the floor and approached them. Silently, the boys watched as she created a trench around their castle. When she was finished they looked from the new addition to their project to her and smiled sheepishly.

Normally other children didn't appreciate her help. She did her best to hide her smile, all thoughts of finding toads forgotten, as she hoped that maybe – just _maybe _– she had made some friends.

* * *

The boy wondered if he could put a moat around his cupboard one day so that his aunt, uncle and cousin wouldn't be able to get in. It was a silly idea though. He knew better than anyone that real life wasn't as simple as the pretend games he played to forget.

His thanks to the girl were barely out of his mouth when the illusion was broken by his cousin's voice.

"Oi, poo face! We're going!"

He gulped because this time it wasn't sand slipping through his fingers but the happy moment he had built around him. Soon the boy and the girl would see his family and leave, never to look back. They would know he was the boy with no parents, the one that made strange things happen and wasn't worth knowing at all.

"That's my cousin," he mumbled, unable to look at either of them as he got up. He brushed the sand off his trousers in the hope he wouldn't get any in his uncle's car. "I should go."

Before he moved the boy took the opportunity to glance at the boy and the girl's faces, hoping he would remember them. Instead of the laughter or indifference he had expected, they were both glaring at his cousin. It made him scared. Didn't they realise what would happen if his cousin saw?

"Is that what he always calls you?"

"Don't you have a name?"

At the tall boy's question the girl's scowl faded and they both turned to look at him expectantly.

"Yeah, my name is-"

"Boy!" came his uncle's shout from across the park. "Get here now! We're leaving!"

His uncle had the effect that his cousin hadn't and the boy and the girl flinched at his tone. He'd seen his uncle scare gown-ups so it was too much to hope for that these two children could help him. It was nice that they hadn't ran away though. In fact they looked more concerned than scared.

"Sorry. I'd be-"

"Now! Get away from them!"

He had scrambled out of the sandpit, tripping over his feet in his haste, before either of them could say another word.

* * *

The short boy's sudden exit left her and the other boy in an awkward silence. They stared at each other, complete sand castle between them, unsure of what to do next.

"Do you think he'll be okay?"

"I think so."

He tried to pull his trouser leg down to hide a hole in his sock, rubbing his nose self-consciously.

"How about-"

"Sweetheart? We're going now. Say goodbye to your friend!"

Her daddy's words were kinder than the other boy's daddy but still made them jump.

"Bye, then."

"Goodbye. It was nice to meet you."

"Er - yeah."

She went to leave the slightly rude boy and return to her parents when she spotted something that made her pause.

"You've got dirt on your nose, by the way. Just there."

She smiled to herself as she skipped back to her daddy, the boy scowling behind her.


End file.
